


An Orphan Is Not Without Family

by AngelOfTheMoor



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Claire POV, Coda, Episode: s10e09 The Things We Left Behind, Ficlet, Gen, Mark of Cain, Pre-Slash, Spoilers, families, pre-destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-10
Updated: 2014-12-10
Packaged: 2018-02-28 21:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2747978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngelOfTheMoor/pseuds/AngelOfTheMoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Dean loses control of himself in Randy's house, he asks Castiel to fulfill a promise to kill him, and Castiel refuses. Claire witnesses what ensues while struggling to deal with the trauma she has just experienced. She does not understand what she feels anymore, or why she behaves as she does. How can she even make a decision, let alone know whether she has chosen correctly?</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Orphan Is Not Without Family

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: _Supernatural_ doesn't belong to me.
> 
> So, I finally got to watch an episode of _SPN_ during its actual airtime for once, and apparently I felt the need to write this ficlet to deal with my feels. I know the story might have holes in it, but I hope you enjoy it all the same.
> 
> As always, thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are very welcome.

The image had been branded into Claire’s brain—Dean Winchester, knife in hand, surrounded by bodies slashed to bits. In the back of the car, she burrowed into Castiel’s side, burying her face in his trench coat. It was different than the one her dad had worn, shorter, not as tattered, some distant part of her observed.

She _hated_ Castiel; he’d murdered her dad, yet here she was turning to him for comfort. She would laugh at the bitter irony if she hadn’t already burst into tears.

Randy, her _family_ , had sold her to those men. He wouldn’t have done it if he hadn’t been so desperate. But it didn’t matter how freakin’ desperate you were—you didn’t do that shit to _family_.

She felt Castiel smooth a hand through her hair, and she couldn’t tear herself away from his touch, even if she despised him.

Through the car doors, she heard footsteps pounding the pavement outside. “Dean, what—” a muffled voice shouted; then the door beside Castiel was flung open. Castiel halfway fell out of the car before catching himself and standing up. Claire followed his lead.

“Where’s your friggin’ angel blade?!” Dean yelled. Flecks of spittle flew from his mouth onto Castiel’s nose.

Castiel narrowed his eyes. “Why? Dean, I will not enable—”

“You’re damn right you won’t!” He eyed Claire. “Get her out of here. I don’t want her to see this.”

Castiel’s eyes widened, darting between Dean and Claire. She watched as realization slowly overcame his features. “Dean, I won’t—”

“Do it!”

“Dean, what are you talking about?” Sam called from nearby.

Castiel glanced at Claire again. “You are right. Claire does not need to see this.” He turned to her. “Would you leave us alone for a few minutes?”

Claire crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Nuh uh.”

“Dammit, Claire!” Dean hissed. Claire jumped, shying away from his menacing air. “You’re too young for this.”

“Too young for what?” Sam questioned.

Castiel stared at Dean. “You were younger, when you saw your first monster.”

“And didn’t I just turn out a damn peach,” Dean sneered. His voice had been growing deeper by degrees, and now he sounded like something malevolent, something evil.—

“Will someone tell me what’s going on?” Sam pleaded.

Dean ignored him and growled, “Cas, you fucking _promised_.”

Castiel’s eyes hardened. “I made no such promise.”

Dean whipped out a sword and pressed it against Castiel’s throat. Claire shrieked. What the hell was he doing, threatening his friend like that?

“You will do it,” Dean snarled, “or I’ll waste your ass.” She watched as a dollop of blood blossomed underneath the tip of the blade.

“Dean, what the hell?!” Sam hollered.

“Shut him up, Cas.”

Castiel gave Dean an exasperated look before extending his arm, palm outward. Sam tumbled to the ground, comatose.

“Now,” Dean barked. He pushed the blade deeper into Castiel’s skin. Castiel pulled a sword from his sleeve and twirled it idly in his fingers. “ _Cas_.”

“Okay, Dean,” Castiel replied in what Claire could only characterize as a whimper. He held the sword up to Dean’s throat.

Claire noted something glowing on Dean’s arm, burning redder by the second. He roared, brandishing teeth as if he were a deadly wolf. He shoved Castiel against the car, and something flickered in his eyes, hazel-black-hazel-black over and over.

Now she thought she understood. Dean had been warning about the monster inside himself, somehow keeping it at bay until this moment.

He leaned toward Castiel, snatched away his sword, and pointed it at him.

Before she could think about what she was doing, Claire hurled herself at him, attempting to claw him off of Castiel. “Get away from him!” she screeched. He shrugged her off as if she were nothing more than a ragdoll.

“Fuck off!” Dean roared. He spun around to face her, his arm swinging as if he were about to strike her with the sword.

“No, Dean!” Castiel shouted as he tackled Dean. They fell to the ground, Castiel landing on top of Dean and gaining control of his sword during the struggle. Dean’s own sword clattered off somewhere far to the side.

Dean threw his head back and laughed. “You got me!” he jeered. Castiel remained still, holding the sword above him.

“What are you waiting for?” Claire urged.

After deliberating for a minute, Castiel answered, “I will not hurt Dean.”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, but that’s not Dean.”

“Yes, he is.” Castiel placed a hand atop that lit mark, wincing as if it had seared him. Maybe it had.

Dean’s eyes flashed black to hazel, but the color didn’t change again. Something vulnerable entered them, and he blinked. “Cas?”

“Yes, Dean.”

And Castiel’s eyes took on a hint of vulnerability as well.

That was when Claire knew. Castiel and Dean Winchester were irrevocably, irreparably, devastatingly in love.

“You were supposed to kill me,” Dean said.

Castiel stowed away his sword and cast his eyes downward. “I’m sorry. I cannot do that, Dean.”

Dean rubbed at the mark. “But I told ya. I can’t go dark side again.”

Whoa. She was obviously missing a huge chunk of history here.

“You won’t,” Castiel vowed. “We will find a way.”

Dean snorted. “Short of me transferrin’ it to somebody, I don’t think I can exactly get rid of this thing.”

Sam stirred and clumsily maneuvered himself into a sitting position. “What happened?”

“I was just telling Dean that we will help him with the Mark.”

“Uh. Yeah.” Sam wouldn’t look in Dean and Castiel’s direction, and he shivered. “But first we gotta figure out what we’re doin’ with her.”

“ _She_ has a name,” Claire sniped. “And you’re not doing anything with me. I can handle myself.” Dean snorted, and Claire glared at him.

“You think we can take her back to the bunker?” Sam asked. What the fuck? These idiots had a _bunker_?

“Maybe Jody’d be willing to help,” Dean suggested. “She’s got Alex.”

“Yeah, and her hands are already full with her.”

Claire inched away from the other three. No one seemed to be paying attention to her, and damned if she was gonna let these motherfuckers tell her what to do.

“Claire?” Castiel called after her. She startled at his voice and spun around to face him.

“ _What_?” she retorted.

“What would you like to do?”

She jerked her head toward the road. “Leave.”

His face fell. “Okay. If that is what you wish.”

“I do.”

“If you change your mind—if you ever want to see us, you are always welcome. Here.” He scrawled something on a Post-it note and handed it to her. “That is my phone number.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled. As she strode down the street, she didn’t look back.

But when she reached the next intersection, her eyes strayed toward the phone number in her hand.

She dashed back toward Randy’s place. They were still there, crowded around the car.

“Can I come with you?” she sobbed, not quite comprehending why she was behaving this way.

Castiel smiled, just a small thing, not one of those big welcoming ones like her dad. “Yes, of course.”

“I want to help you.”

“Help me what?”

She nodded at Dean. “With him.” She didn’t understand why she wanted to assist them, but she did. Hell, it wasn’t like she had anything else goin’ for her at the moment. Maybe this would give her what she had been wishing for since her mom had abandoned her. A purpose.

Or a sense of belonging. Wasn’t that really what she wanted?

“Hell, no,” Dean objected. “You’re just a kid.” She put her hands on her hips and glowered at him.

“Dean,” Castiel interjected, “Remember what I said earlier?”

“What, about being entitled to a midlife crisis?” Dean quipped.

Castiel placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “No. About you and your first monster.”

Dean shrugged off his touch. “And that makes everything all better, huh?”

“Dean,” Castiel warned.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Fine, kid. Just stay out of the damn way.”

Sam approached her and assumed an overly friendly expression. “Welcome aboard, kiddo.”

“I have a fucking _name_ ,” she groused.

“Whoa, watch your language,” Dean admonished.

“Oh, my God,” she muttered under her breath. She headed toward the car and opened one of the backseat doors. “Can we just get out of here, puh-lease?”

“Uh. Sure.”

Castiel joined her in the back and wrapped an arm around her. She didn’t try to wriggle away from him. His eyes were kind, and occasionally, when he looked at Dean, they were downright _adoring_.

She had been right. This definitely wasn’t the same Castiel she had allowed to possess her all those years ago. A part of her almost wished she could let him inside again, read his mind just as she had done the last time. To see how much he’d changed and why. The Castiel she’d known had not been capable of love, not the type of love he seemed to possess for Dean, and even her, for some damn reason.

One thing was certain: someone needed to goad Castiel and Dean into knockin’ the boots before they exploded from their pent-up sexual tension.

Maybe that was her.

Except . . . Castiel did have her dad’s body, and thinking about that was just _gross_ and so, so wrong.

Okay, perhaps she shouldn’t be so explicit. It was like in those dumbass kids’ movies where the children wanted their mom or dad to meet someone new and fall in love.

Except this wasn’t really like that, either. Castiel would never be her dad.

But maybe he could be family, if she could find it in herself to let him.


End file.
